


Doing the Crossword

by FoxRafer



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-19
Updated: 2011-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxRafer/pseuds/FoxRafer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for <a href="http://griffndor.livejournal.com/"><b>griffndor</b></a> as part of her <a href="http://help-nz.livejournal.com/"><b>help_nz</b></a> auction win. AU where Eric is a writer and Karl is a caterer.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Doing the Crossword

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [**griffndor**](http://griffndor.livejournal.com/) as part of her [**help_nz**](http://help-nz.livejournal.com/) auction win. AU where Eric is a writer and Karl is a caterer.

The house was still redolent with the remnants of Karl's afternoon experiments. He'd been playing with herbs and spices, infusing oils for some as yet unknown purpose, creating new flavors and savory sauces. The kitchen had been cleaned, all concoctions put away, but the smell still permeated the air, tickling the palate.

Eric walked out of the bedroom, his hair still damp from the shower, and sprawled on the couch next to Karl. He loved all facets of their life together, but these quiet moments at the end of the day, the world outside slowly fading into slumber, were treasured reminders of the changes they'd made, signs of the depth of their love. They used to be pure examples of frenetic energy, always on the move, a non-stop rush from closing deals to boardroom pitches. Even when alone they couldn't be still, a heated push and pull of bodies, almost desperate in their need. But now their passion smoldered on a whisper, an ever-present slow burn that made evenings like this more intense and intimate than any mad slap and dash.

Eric retrieved his notebook and pen, swung his feet onto Karl's lap and jotted down the sentences he'd been turning over in his mind as he stood under the spray of the shower. Karl unconsciously moved his hand onto Eric's calves, his eyes never leaving the newspaper. He read the next clue aloud, his voice soft as he thought it through.

"Eight letters, starting with K," he breathed, his voice low.

Eric carried on writing, stealing an occasional glance at the flecks of amber in Karl's hazel eyes. Neither bothered suppressing their smiles as Karl continued his feigned attention to the puzzle and Eric waited on a slow count to twenty. The both knew Karl already had the answer, but it had become a game of sorts, a subtle foreplay they had fallen into and now wouldn't miss.

Finally Eric cleared his throat and said, "Kerosine."

"Yeah?" Karl counted it out in the squares then gave a small nod. "It fits."

Only then did he look at Eric, a long, playful yet burning gaze, and one more dizzying wave of desire fluttered through them. Truth be told, Karl preferred logic puzzles and Eric anagrams, but then they'd miss this building tension, the steady weight of the other's presence, and the lighthearted affection that set them both aflame.


End file.
